I call random

Busy!
Random!

Feast your eyes on microcars! I can't even decide which one I like best. Don't they look like insects? Cartoon insects? Cartoon insects with faces?


Last weekend I heard a wonderful little song by Alan Arkin. It's not available anywhere and I can't link to it, so you'll just have to read these lyrics and imagine the tune -

I like you/You don't make me nervous/I met someone like you before/But only once or twice, once or twice/And not very recently/ You'll do.

"My blood pressure's normal/I haven't lost no sleep at all/Not since Francine/And it's possible for me to concentrate on my work.

"I'm glad I'm not walking on air/And bells don't go off in my ear/ I don't say to myself, 'Get a hold of myself'/And I don't get a rash when you're near.

"You're trustworthy/And it wouldn't bother me a bit if I had to leave for a few weeks/You don't nag me for money all the time/And one thing I forgot/You're a very good cook/And I certainly love to eat.

I luff it.

One afternoon, not too long ago, I went with some work friends on a hot chocolate run. It was the kind of hot chocolate that you could almost eat.

Plusplusplus, they put a square of homemade marshmallow on top. I had one bite. Couldn't take it. TOO RICH. Good, though.

Not cake!





MEAT CAKE.
(With bacon sprinkles.)
My brother B entered a baking contest at his job - with meat cake. Similar to meat LOAF but iced with mashed potatoes.
PASS THE KETCHUP.


Sure, we all KNOW it, but GOSH The Onion is awfully funny... all the time! I thought I'd remind you.


I haven't seen a copy of Woman's Day for many years - doctor's offices don't have magazines anymore. But look at this list! I wonder if there even is a paper version of WD.




We caught a little bit of Out Of Africa the other night.



Such hats.



When I first saw Out Of Africa it was fashionable within my set of friends to make fun of Meryl Streep, with her accents and hair and hats.
Now that I am older, and I look again at the work she has done, I admire her.
I hadn't seen the film in a long long time and, while I remembered Robert Redford's fate and the fire, I had lost track of the nuances - the feeling of her empty home, being offered a drink at the club, her giving her servant the compass.
We watched about two hours of it, having come in 45 minutes into it and then I had one of those
cathartic sad-movie cries.


Is it me? I walk by a store that carries these every day and cannot imagine having them in my office. Distracting!